


Our Moment

by watyonameisgurl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (and before Liam bought his own house in la), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Sort Of, There's a little bit of plot, also apparently this is the first ever ziam sex pollen fic to be posted on here which is wow, but it's minimal, but it’s sex pollen so, if you don't know what sex pollen is that's okay definition is inside, on both Zayn and Liam’s parts, set in 2016 about a year after Zayn left, slightly dub-cony, that’s kind of what we’re all here for isn’t it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watyonameisgurl/pseuds/watyonameisgurl
Summary: “You think thesmelldid something to you?” Zayn says, incredulous. “What, like, you’re suddenly allergic to vanilla or something?”Liam pouts, frustrated that Zayn doesn’t believe him and that he’s no longer as close as he was a few moments ago and Zayn starts to pull away again, saying, “This is ridiculous,” but Liam pulls him right back down, tucking his face into Zayn’s neck and breathing him in.“Liam, you’rehigh…orwhateverthis is,” Zayn says, pulling away a third time and gesturing at Liam’s prone form. Then, a little gentler, “If you still want this when you’re sober and back to yourself, I’ll be here, okay? But…not like this.”[Or, Liam has a weird reaction to a fan’s perfume and Zayn’s left dealing with the fallout]





	Our Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Name from the 1d perfume because i am still unoriginal...
> 
> So this has been a half-finished draft of a fic for going on probably about a year now but here it finally is! The finished product of my first ever pwp (the first one I started anyway, I’ve got another much longer one that I started shortly after this one but who knows when the hell that’ll be finished lol smdh) but anyway enjoy! :)
> 
>  **Sex Pollen Definition** (for those who might not be familiar with the trope) - Sex Pollen is a common fanfiction trope used to bring two characters together in a sexual encounter. It involves one or several characters becoming infected with a pollen of some alien or magical plant, or they might be influenced in some other way (magic, alien technology, mind control, etc.) that causes them to lose inhibitions and/or revs up libido, usually resulting in dub-con sex*, which may lead to dramatic guilt and misunderstandings, or a resolution of UST (unresolved sexual tension)
> 
> (*the website I got that from originally said non-con but in every sex pollen fic that I’ve ever encountered there’s never been any actual non-consensual sex and consent is always dealt with appropriately so I changed that bit cause it’s probably either way outdated or just inaccurate info -- it’s a very old and lesser known trope so it’s kind of understandable tbh that the official info on it might not be totally accurate/up to date from the times when more people might have been writing it as actual non-con than do now)

 

Zayn and Liam are out and about in LA, just hanging out and exploring the city, when they get stopped by a couple of fans.

They’re very sweet, more chill, laid back kind of fans, which Liam and Zayn are a bit thankful for because neither of them are really in the right headspace at the moment to deal with hyperventilating or crying. Not that they have anything against those kinds of fans either. They love and appreciate all their fans of course, just sometimes it can be a bit much dealing with huge explosions of emotion that even to this day they can’t quite wrap their heads around. It’s easier when it’s a big event and it’s a bit more expected. When they’ve got the rush of a crowd fueling them on and the other boys backing them up so it feels less like a task to put on a brave face and do whatever they need to do or say whatever they need to say to diffuse the situation. And it’s easier to understand then too, how the excitement of the moment at a big signing or a crowded show could be overwhelming and bring up so many emotions.

But when it’s just a quiet day off, just one or two of them by themselves and it happens it’s a bit harder. Both to understand and to handle because it’s just _them_ , they’re just people. There’s not some huge show or meeting that the fans have had a chance to build up in their heads and there’s no crowd of other equally emotional fans to feed off of. It’s just them, in a shop or on a street walking about. No big deal. And yet it still happens, and it can be a bit much when you’re just trying to have a chill, quiet day walking around the city or going to get groceries and the next thing you know someone’s having a complete breakdown in front of you in the middle of the block.

These fans aren’t like that at all though. They’re excited to meet them of course but not super emotional about it. They gush a bit about how much they love Liam and Zayn, how they’d heard both boys were in town but didn’t think they’d actually run into them, how beautiful they are, how Liam and Zayn are their favorites out of all the boys, and a bunch of other really nice things, and then ask for a couple of pictures.

They all take a couple of quick selfies together with a few different poses and faces and then one of them asks Liam for a hug and Liam never could say no to a fan so he leans in. And is immediately assaulted with the scent of the girl’s sickly sweet perfume.

He’d smelled it even when they took the selfies but it wasn’t nearly as strong as it is when she hugs him and he almost gags on the richness of it but just manages to hold himself back. The other girl hugs Zayn but she’s not doused in any weird smelling perfume, at least not that Liam can tell. Or if she is Zayn doesn’t seem to be as bothered by it as he is, although perhaps it’s just not as strong as the girl who hugged Liam. But that’s about the end of their encounter anyway and they exchange a few more pleasantries and then both head on their way.

Even after the girl’s gone though the smell seems to linger, that sickly sweet aroma hanging in the air around him, stagnant and unmoving, refusing to fade. It’s like a cloud that follows him and it permeates his senses, making his eyes water and his head swim and he’s never had allergies before but it feels exactly how people always describe what having allergies is like. Except he also feels a bit like he’s drunk or high or something and it’s really throwing him off balance, literally and figuratively, and he can’t escape it. It feels like it’s _everywhere_. In his nose, in his mouth, his clothes, his hair, and he can’t seem to do anything to get it to go away.

Zayn hadn’t said much about it at first, seemed mostly unfazed by the smell and didn’t have much else to say in response to Liam’s continuous quips about how bad he smells and how he can’t wait to get back to Zayn’s and shower. But now it’s gotten to the point where Zayn keeps giving him funny looks every time Liam brings it up and it’s really starting to freak him out.

“God, honestly, I smell like I’ve been dipped in molasses…or, like, maple syrup or something.”

“What?” Zayn says, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“Or do you think it smells more like vanilla?” Liam muses, pulling the collar of his shirt out curiously as if to sniff at it before realizing he doesn’t really need or want to, given how strong it already is like this.

“What are you on about, Liam? What do molasses and vanilla have to do with anything? And why do you keep talking about how you smell?”

Liam whips his head around at Zayn looking for some sort of sign that he’s playing a joke on him, having a laugh. A smirk, a hint of a smile, anything. But there’s nothing. “You mean you…you don’t smell it?”

Zayn just looks back at him, all seriousness, brow still crinkled in confusion as he says, “Smell what?”

“That girl’s perfume. It’s like _all over me_ …you seriously don’t smell it?”

Zayn leans in and gives him a quick sniff before pulling back again, shaking his head. “No, sorry, mate. Just smells like you, like how you always smell.”

Liam actually stops walking for a moment then and just stares at him in disbelief because how the hell can Zayn not smell _anything_? It’s _everywhere_ , for Christ’s sake and it’s quite possibly the strongest, worst smelling perfume he’s ever smelt in his life. But Zayn just shrugs.

“You sure something’s not wrong with your nose?” Liam says, half-jokingly, but half-serious because what the fuck.

“Could ask you the same thing, mate. You’re the one smelling things that aren’t there.” Zayn’s lips are turned up slightly at the corners as if he’s trying to hold back a smile and Liam rolls his eyes as he starts walking again.

“Whatever. I just hope it wears off eventually cause it’s been _hours_ and I can still smell it, and honestly it went way past the point of annoying ages ago. It smells absolutely _disgusting_. Thirty seconds was long enough but if it goes on much longer I might actually go mental,” Liam says with a huff.

Zayn throws him another funny look, but doesn’t say anything else about it and they keep on walking. Past a row of posh dessert and bakery shops, and then through a residential area that neighbors Zayn’s, finally circling around a little stretch of park not too far from Zayn’s house.

They’ve been walking around, exploring the nearby neighborhoods and the city in general for a few hours now and the sun’s starting to get low, the air starting to cool as they head back in the direction of Zayn’s place. But Liam’s starting to feel more and more weird the more time that goes by. Hasn’t felt quite right since their run-in with those fans if he’s honest and he’d tried to hide it. Tried to soldier on and push himself to keep going and keep telling himself it’s not much further, that he just had to keep himself going for a little while longer. But it had only gotten harder and harder with each passing step and eventually it gets so that it’s too much effort to keep pushing himself any longer.

They make it all the way to Zayn’s block before Liam sinks down to the curb, head tucked between his knees to try and get a proper breath in.

“Whoa, Liam, y’alright?”

Liam shakes his head miserably. “I don’t…I don’t feel so good.”

“D’you want some water?” Zayn asks, dropping down beside him and digging into his backpack to pull out a half-empty water bottle.

Liam nods and takes it gratefully, gulping it down lightning fast, but it doesn’t help him feel any better and he sighs, ducking his head back down between his knees and wondering what the hell is happening to him. His head is swimming, his heart hammering in his chest, and his skin feels like it’s on fire. The air around him feels stuffy, making it hard to breathe even though it’s still just barely past winter in LA and the air is not nearly warm enough to warrant him feeling this overheated, especially with the sun halfway down now. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be dehydrated though after all the water he drank during their trek, if that’s even what this is. He’d downed three of his own water bottles during the walk and now half of Zayn’s last remaining one so there’s no reason he should be feeling as faint as he does, but he can’t figure out what else could be causing all this.

Zayn lays a hand over the side of his face and says, “Christ, you’re burning up. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Liam nods and leans into Zayn’s touch, relishing in the feel of Zayn’s cool hand against his flushed skin. God, it feels good, _really good_ , and he kind of wishes it never had to stop, that he could sit here with Zayn’s hand pressed to his skin for all of eternity and be happy. It’s a strange thought to have and normally he’d be wondering where it even came from but right now he doesn’t much care. All he cares about it in this moment is that it’s a little easier to breathe with Zayn’s hand on him and he doesn’t feel quite as faint or as overheated as he did just a few moments ago.

“Do you think you can make it back to mine? It’s just a couple more minutes and then we can get you in bed with a nice warm bowl of soup and some clean clothes, have you feeling better in no time.”

Liam’s stomach swoops when Zayn says “get you in bed” and he doesn’t know why. But he can’t think too well through the fog that’s suddenly clouding his brain, leaving his thoughts muddled and incoherent, so he just nods in answer and stumbles to his feet.

Zayn wraps an arm around his waist to steady him and lets Liam lean his weight into him as they half-walk, half-hobble their way down the rest of the block, Zayn supporting most of his weight and practically tugging him along by the time they make it up his driveway and to his front door.

Zayn all but carries Liam up the stairs once they’re inside, arm still wrapped securely around Liam’s waist as he helps pull Liam upward, has to remind him to step up with each step they reach because Liam keeps forgetting that they’re on stairs and not solid ground anymore. When they finally make their way to the top after tripping a handful of times, they stumble their way into Zayn’s bedroom and Liam sinks gratefully down to the bed, pulling Zayn with him.

Zayn lands on top of him, leg between Liam’s thigh and he giggles when Liam wiggles his hips until he feels Liam’s hard-on pressing into him and his laughter abruptly cuts off.

“Liam,” he says like a warning, eyes wide as he stares down at Liam’s face. And Liam’s not really sure when he got hard, but what he is sure of is how good it feels to have Zayn over him like this, to have him touching Liam everywhere while Liam grinds his hips into Zayn’s thigh.

Zayn tries to pull away but Liam latches onto him and pulls him right back down, runs his fingers up Zayn’s back under his shirt just for the way his fingertips spark with electricity at the touch. Everywhere he and Zayn are touching feels like there’s lightning buzzing just underneath the surface of his skin and it feels _amazing_.

“Liam, what’s going on?” Zayn’s says softly.

“Dunno…feel…feel weird. Funny. Feel like…like lightning. Everywhere. Everywhere we touch. Do you feel it, too?”

“Hey, hey,” Zayn says, hands on either side of Liam’s face now as he studies him closely, “look at me. Liam, look at me. Did you take something? Did someone give you something?” And then more as an aside to himself, “God, your pupils are like saucers.”

“No…I…I don’t know…perfume?” Liam says, nose scrunching up at the memory of the sickly sweet smell.

His thoughts are a jumbled mess and he can’t seem to get himself to string together proper sentences but Zayn must understand him well enough because he says, “Perfume? The girl with the perfume? Did _she_ give you something?”

“ _No_ ,” Liam says frustratedly, “no, it…the smell… _sweet_ …was everywhere…”

“You think the _smell_ did something to you?” Zayn says, incredulous. “What, like, you’re suddenly allergic to vanilla or something?”

Liam pouts, frustrated that Zayn doesn’t believe him and that he’s no longer as close as he was a few moments ago and Zayn starts to pull away again, saying, “This is ridiculous,” but Liam pulls him right back down, tucking his face into Zayn’s neck and breathing him in.

“Liam, you’re _high_ …or _whatever_ this is,” Zayn says, pulling away a third time and gesturing at Liam’s prone form. Then, a little gentler, “If you still want this when you’re sober and back to yourself, I’ll be here, okay? But…not like this.”

Zayn gets up, ambling over to his dresser where he starts to pull out clean clothes and Liam whimpers as the heat suddenly comes rushing back in full force. His skin feels like it’s boiling, like someone doused him in gasoline and lit a match and the fire is slowly crawling over him, engulfing him. He writhes on the bed, trying to rub any exposed skin he can against the cool duvet but it doesn’t help. It only makes the feeling worse until it feels like every part of him that’s touching something starts to hurt, to burn with a fierce heat that’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Even his clothes hurt and he shimmies out of them as gingerly as he can until he’s completely naked, curled up in the middle of the bed, trying to keep his sobs as quiet as he can.

“Liam? What’s wrong? What happened?” Zayn says, rushing back to the bed, clean clothes in hand.

“Hurts,” Liam sobs wretchedly, voice breaking on the word.

“What hurts?”

“Just _hurts_.”

Liam feels the bed dip as Zayn sits down on the edge and says gently, “Where does it hurt? Can you tell me?”

“ _Everywhere_ ,” he whines.

Zayn nods somberly, getting up. “I’m gonna go downstairs, get you some pain meds. I’ll be right back.”

“ _No_ , please,” Liam says, reaching out to grab his hand, “please don’t leave.”

“M’not leaving,” Zayn says, sitting back down and leaning over a little so he’s almost eye level with Liam. “I’m just going downstairs for a minute to get you some medicine that might help you feel a little better. I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”

“ _Please_ …please just stay,” he begs, pulling Zayn’s hand to his face again and sighing as he leans up into the touch. “Goes away…when you’re…close…touching me.”

“What goes away?” Zayn says, brushing his fingers gently over Liam’s cheek.

“The fire. Doesn’t…hurt anymore…like this.”

“The pain goes away when I touch you?”

Liam nods and Zayn sighs, sounding a bit resigned and a bit exasperated at the same time. “ _Christ_ , whatever that girl did to you is seriously fucked up, you know that?”

Liam just hums, moving Zayn’s hand down to his neck and sighing contentedly until eventually Zayn lies down on the bed across from him, fingers stroking down his neck and Liam closes his eyes. Lets the momentary feeling of calm wash over him, relieved that the fire is finally fading as the exhaustion of the day steadily creeps in, and before he knows it he’s fast asleep.

When he wakes hours later it’s to a steady burning sensation that climbs ever higher until his skin feels like it’s boiling again. He pries his eyes open to find the spot in front of him empty and Zayn over by the dresser pulling on shorts and a t-shirt.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zayn says in a rush when he sees Liam’s awake and whimpering again, hurrying back over to the bed. “Just wanted to change out of those sweaty clothes.”

He runs a hand through Liam’s hair, damp with sweat, and Liam moans, arching his neck for more. Zayn sighs as he pulls away to roll back the covers. Maneuvers Liam’s naked and flushed form up and around until he’s laying in the bed properly instead of across it, head propped up on soft pillows. Zayn scoots in next to him, pulling the covers over himself but not over Liam as he reaches out to curl his hand over Liam’s head again, tangling his fingers in his hair and Liam blows out a shaky breath as his skin finally starts to settle again.

This time it takes Liam much longer to fall asleep. Zayn’s soft, even breaths and the hand in his hair enough to keep him somewhat relaxed but no longer as calming as it was a few hours ago. It’s like whatever this is seems to be hitting him in waves, each one slightly different from the last until whatever was enough before isn’t anymore.

When he finally does sleep it’s anything but peaceful. Full of fever dreams of Zayn that have him drifting in and out of consciousness until he’s not sure what’s real and what’s a dream anymore. He wakes in stops and starts, fits of intense heat and intense cold, drenched in sweat one moment and shivering the next and it’s Zayn’s voice that finally brings him out of it and back into full consciousness.

“Liam,” he says in that warning tone again, voice still rough with sleep and Liam blinks himself the rest of way awake to find that he’s spooned up behind Zayn, grinding into his arse.

“S-sorry,” he whispers, trying his best to still his hips and only managing to bring his pace down to a slow grind. Zayn sighs, pulling away a little and shuffling around until he’s facing Liam and Liam can’t help it, immediately pushes right back into his space until he’s grinding against Zayn’s hip, muttering, “Sorry, m’sorry,” over and over again.

“Liam,” Zayn says again, voice stern as he braces his hands on Liam’s hips and angles them away from his own. “I know you’re having…a bit of a hard time controlling yourself right now, but _this_ can’t happen, okay? Not like this. Not while you’re still off your head with whatever crazy perfume-scented shit that girl drugged you with.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Zayn says sharply. “This isn’t you, Liam, so whatever fever-addled explanation you’re about to give, don’t bother.”

“But it _is_ me,” he argues feebly, pushing his face right up to Zayn’s so their lips are inches apart, and his voice sounds whiny and petulant which isn’t exactly helping his case but it doesn’t make it any less true and he hopes Zayn can sense that. “I…I wanted…thought about it. Before. Before this. Just…was scared. Thought you wouldn’t…wouldn’t want me…that way. ’Specially when…after—after you left.”

He feels Zayn’s slow exhale before he hears it, the little puff of breath ghosting over his own lips, and he wants to taste it. But Zayn pulls away at the last second, taking Liam’s face in his hands and searching his eyes the same way he did earlier before he says very seriously, “Is that the truth, Liam? Because I need to know that you’re serious. I need to know that you’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear to get me to sleep with you.”

“S’true… _promise_ ,” Liam says as sincerely as he can, leaning into Zayn’s space again. “ _Want_ you…wanted you…so long.”

Zayn traces a thumb over Liam’s bottom lip, eyes dark. “Just…just promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“Won’t. _Promise_ ,” Liam says, shaking his head emphatically and Zayn finally leans in to press his lips against Liam’s, sucking Liam’s bottom lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. Liam whines into his mouth rolling his hips up into Zayn’s to find that he’s half-hard too. But he doesn’t have the mental capacity to wonder when that happened because Zayn’s cupping a hand under his bare arse and pulling him forward until there’s no space left between them.

He lets Liam rut his hips against him for a few minutes before he stills them again and Liam lets out a frustrated little whine, squirming in his grip. But Zayn reaches down to wrap a hand around him, grip firm and sure as he strokes him. He only manages to get in a couple of strokes though before Liam’s coming, fingers digging into Zayn’s forearm and shoulder as his orgasm pulses through him. Spurt after spurt of hot come spilling over Zayn’s fingers and it just keeps coming, like it’ll never end, and Liam can’t do anything but buck his hips weakly into Zayn’s hand and curl his face into Zayn’s neck pitifully because it feels good but not like it should. Not like the toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasm it should have been after being hard and turned for so long and having _Zayn’s_ —of all people’s—hands on him.

“Jesus,” Zayn mutters when it’s finally over, pulling his hand away and pressing a kiss to the top of Liam’s head. “You okay?”

Liam whimpers, nodding his head and Zayn sighs as he reaches behind himself for the box of the tissues on the nightstand. He wipes his messy hand clean and is about to reach down to clean Liam off when he stops. “Christ, you’re still hard,” he says looking back up at Liam in disbelief.

“M’sorry,” Liam says miserably, ducking his face lower, into Zayn’s chest. “Dunno…what’s…what’s wrong with me.”

“S’okay, it’s not your fault,” Zayn says, wrapping one hand around Liam’s waist and reaching down to clean him off as gently as he can with the other, tossing the tissue in the general vicinity of the bin next to Liam’s side of the bed and then pulling him in close. “D’you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

“Dunno,” Liam mumbles softly into Zayn’s t-shirt, laid half on top of Zayn now with Zayn on his back underneath him.

“Try for me, yeah? And if you can’t, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“What…what about you?” Liam says, looking down at where Zayn’s still half hard in his shorts.

Zayn shakes his head. “I’m alright. You just try and sleep, yeah?”

Liam nods, ducking his head back down to Zayn’s chest and closing his eyes. He waits for sleep to come but it doesn’t. He’s wide awake now with Zayn’s hard-on in clear view and he bites his lip as he imagines what it would taste like, how it would _feel_ in his mouth, warm and heavy and filling him up till he can’t breathe. He _wants_ it, _needs_ it even, and he bites down on his lip hard to hold in a whimper. His head feels foggy again and even though he’s got both of Zayn’s arms wrapped around him he can feel the heat steadily creeping its way back in. He closes his eyes and breathes, trying to force himself to stay still and calm down so he doesn’t wake Zayn again but everything feels so foggy.

He doesn’t remember moving but he blinks and suddenly he’s on his knees, hunched over Zayn’s thighs. Everything around him is fuzzy and blurry but his hands are steady as they reach for the waistband of Zayn’s shorts, seeming to move of their own accord and it’s strange how he doesn’t even feel like he’s in control of his own limbs anymore. He’s peeling Zayn’s shorts down, stretching them out so they’re tucked right up under his balls, but it doesn’t feel like it’s him doing it. Zayn snuffles and shifts as Liam leans in, jerking awake at the touch of the tip of Liam’s tongue and Liam’s grateful that at least _that_ part of him feels like him, that his mouth still feels like his own even if the rest of him doesn’t.

“Liam, what the fuck?” Zayn says, scrambling up the bed and tucking himself back into his shorts in a rush, eyes wide.

“S-sorry…sorry,” Liam says, confused and disoriented. “I…I don’t…”

He wants to say he doesn’t know how he got down there or what he was doing or what’s happening but the words get lost in the fog halfway through. His confusion and disorientation must show on his face though because Zayn’s shoulders sag and he crawls back down the bed and cups Liam’s jaw in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna figure this out, okay?” Liam nods and then drops his forehead to Zayn’s shoulder miserably, feeling ashamed and turned on and confused and empty and unfulfilled all at the same time. Zayn lays them back down carefully and pets at Liam’s hair, says, “What can I do, babe? What do you need?”

Liam bites anxiously at his lip again. He knows what he needs but he doesn’t know if Zayn will be okay with it, if he’ll want it, especially after what just happened.

“Just need…need to be…full of you…need to _taste_ you. Just…just _need_ it… _please_ ,” Liam whines into his shirt. Zayn doesn’t say anything but Liam hears his deep inhale and he draws his shoulders up bracing himself for the no that he already knows is most likely coming.

“O-okay,” Zayn breathes. “If it what’s you need…okay.”

Liam lifts his head to stare up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, nodding.

Liam sits up, scooting back down the bed so he’s hunched over Zayn’s legs again. He moves slow at first, wary of Zayn changing his mind but also wanting to savor every moment of this now that he feels like he’s at least somewhat back in control of his own body. He tugs at Zayn’s shorts until the waistband is down around his thighs and then he leans in, breath ghosting over the tip of Zayn’s dick and Zayn bites his lip, eyes glued to Liam as Liam darts the tip of his tongue out and licks at the little bead of precome at the tip. Zayn lets out a little huff, mouth open, and Liam ducks down, taking the head into his mouth and sucking.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zayn whispers, hips jerking just a little and Liam ducks down further, takes him almost all the way into his mouth, as much as he can, and hallows out his cheeks, breathing in through his nose and relishing in the feeling of Zayn filling his mouth up.

“Christ, _Liam_ ,” Zayn groans, fisting a hand into the sheets just as Liam starts to bob his head, unable to keep himself from rutting his hips desperately against Zayn’s thigh as he goes. And he’s never been one to salivate over oral before but he certainly is now. Can’t help how wet his mouth gets as he works over Zayn’s length, leaves him shiny and glistening in the dimly lit room as Liam takes him in and out, feels the weight of him pressed warm against his tongue. It’s a bit messy and uncoordinated at first, his eagerness getting the best of him but eventually Liam works himself up to a steady rhythm, still messy, yet taking as much as he can. But it’s not enough. He wants more. He _needs_ more.

Liam pushes even further down, forces himself to take it all until he’s full up and moans, the urge quelled for a moment. But then Zayn bucks his hips involuntarily, pushing himself impossibly deeper and Liam groans around him realizing that’s exactly what he wants. What he _needs_.

Zayn bucks his hips again, stuttering out rushed apologies as soon as he’s done it but Liam just groans around him again, curls his fingers around Zayn’s hips and stays where he is hoping Zayn gets the message before Liam has to come up for air. Because now that he knows what he wants he wants it _now_. Hard and fast and with no apologies.

Zayn looks down at him, mouth open and breathing hard, sees Liam waiting and that’s when it seems to click. He brings his thighs up to plant his feet firmly against the mattress and then bucks his hips again, a little tentative at first.

Liam moans around him, begs with his eyes for Zayn to keep going and Zayn does it again, three quick thrusts into Liam’s mouth, still a little too gentle for Liam’s liking.

“Fuck,” Zayn breathes on his last thrust before he settles back down into the sheets and Liam pulls off to take in a few deep breaths. And then he’s ducking right back down to lick at the head and take Zayn all the way in again, waiting, eyes pleading.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zayn repeats, more of a whine this time as Liam sucks him down and then he’s bucking his hips up again, a little harder than before. Liam closes his eyes and takes it. Pulls off a moment later for another few quick gulps of air and then goes right back down. Keeps it up until all Zayn’s letting out are a string of curses and incoherent groans, thrusts less and less careful, dick starting to jump in Liam’s mouth and Liam pulls off again in a rush, realizing he doesn’t want Zayn to come yet. Not there.

He wants it where the fire’s strongest, a primal urge rising suddenly within him.

“Liam?” Zayn says, still panting, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Liam bites at his lip, puffy and raw and swollen now but he doesn’t care. He can’t really feel it over the fire roaring within him.

“Hey, you okay?” Zayn says gently, a look of concern on his face now.

Liam nods. “Just…just want…” He doesn’t know how to say it. Words are hard right now, but it’s not just that. He doesn’t know if Zayn will want it, want _him_ , like that. That may be pushing things too far even after all they’ve already done and the small bit of rational brain power he still has left is telling him he shouldn’t ask for this. But everything else within him is screaming that he _needs_ it.

He looks down at Zayn’s cock, still so hard and wet in front of him and the sight of it only makes the fire burn hotter the longer he goes without it inside him, his own pulse pounding in his ears. He doesn’t know how long he stares or when exactly everything else started to get so out of focus but suddenly Zayn’s cock is disappearing and his hands are on Liam’s shoulders, snapping him out of it, and Liam looks up to find Zayn kneeled in front of him on the bed. He looks at Liam with big, concerned eyes, voice garbled and far away for a moment like it’s coming from the other side of a tunnel before it starts to get clear again.

“Liam? Can you hear me? What do you need, babe? What can I do? Does it hurt again?”

“In…inside,” Liam says slowly, still feeling as if he’s in a haze, words coming to him piecemeal.

“What?”

“Want…” Liam tries again, licking his lips, “want you…your…want you to … _inside_ … _please_.” And his voice sounds ragged and desperate even to his own ears but it’s how he feels. Ragged and desperate without Zayn inside him. Weak and light-headed, and like he’s burning from the inside out and Zayn’s the only thing that can stop the fire from consuming him. “ _Please_ ,” he says again, just as desperate and ragged as before. “Need…need you.” Lets out a breathy whimper as he drops his face to Zayn’s neck.

“Fuck,” Zayn says for a completely different reason this time. “Okay…okay…if it’s what you need, okay. I got you, yeah?”

Liam just whimpers pitifully again into his shoulder, ruts himself a little weakly against Zayn’s hip, consumed by want but too weak to manage much else right now. His dick is painfully hard. Has been for a while now, ever since he came to hunched over a sleeping Zayn’s thighs, and hasn’t gone soft at all since the moment he first realized he had a hard-on all those hours ago right after they got back from their walk. It’s nothing compared to the fire though, a barely there dull pain in comparison. And draping himself over Zayn like this helps a little with both problems, quells the fire and the dull pain of his ever-present erection just a little.

Zayn pulls away from him briefly and Liam whimpers again as the heat slowly comes creeping in again but Zayn’s back in front of him a moment later, curling arms around him and pressing a gentle kiss to Liam’s temple.

“M’sorry, babe, I don’t, um…I don’t have any condoms. I was meant to go get some a while back but I forgot. It’s kind of…it’s kind of been a while since, um, since I…”

“Don’t…don’t care,” Liam moans. “Wanna…wanna be full…of you…wanna…wanna feel…inside me when…wanna feel your com—”

“Fuck, okay, don’t finish that please or I might actually come on the spot,” Zayn says, voice coming out a little tight as he lets out a heavy breath against the side of Liam’s face. “I’m clean…taking a leap of faith and trusting you are, too.”

Liam moans in response and hopes Zayn takes it as the affirmative it is.

He must because the next thing Liam knows he’s pulling Liam forward a little so he’s sat atop Zayn’s thighs, knees bracketing Zayn’s waist. Their dicks are pressed together between their bellies and Liam ruts against him again a little desperately, Zayn hissing and wrapping a hand around Liam’s waist to still him. “Christ, too much, too much, gonna make me come before I even get inside, babe. Fuck, how is it even your dick feels like it has a fever. There’s no way that’s normal. Please don’t incinerate my dick when I get inside, yeah?”

Liam wants to laugh but all that comes out is another whimper.

He can feel Zayn’s hands moving behind him and he doesn’t know when Zayn pulled out lube or had a chance to coat his fingers in it but in the next moment he feels Zayn’s slick fingers pressing against him and then inside him and he doesn’t really care because nothing else matters. He presses down before Zayn’s even had a chance to get barely more than a fingertip inside him, forcing his whole finger in at once.

“Shit,” Zayn whispers, chin tucked over Liam’s shoulder to try and see as much as he can. “You’re like a fucking furnace. M’not gonna last.”

Liam whines and Zayn slides in another finger alongside first, pumping and scissoring a little.

“Mmmm _please_ , _please_ ,” Liam whines, rolling his hips so Zayn’s fingers slide all the way inside and all the way back out again on repeat without Zayn barely even having to move. He can’t take this, he needs to feel Zayn in him _now_. “ _Please_ … _need_ you… _please_.”

“Fuck, not yet, babe.” Zayn shakes his head, stubbled chin brushing over Liam’s shoulder sending a spark of electricity down him that leaves him shivering and even more desperate. “Let me just get one more—”

“Don’t…don’t need it… _please_. M’ready, _please_ ,” Liam voice breaks on the plea and Zayn pulls back to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Li.”

“Won’t. _Please_ , just… _please_.”

“Okay,” Zayn breathes, nodding. “alright, I’ve got you, just…”

He leans in to take Liam’s lips between his in a searing kiss and Liam whines into it, melting against him because it’s amazing. But right now he needs so much _more_.

“Sorry,” Zayn says against his lips when he pulls back. “Just…really wanted to do that again. And…wouldn’t have felt right doing…what we’re about to do without doing that at least one more time first.”

Liam nods but he’s antsy, can’t help squirming a little in Zayn’s lap, grinding against him again.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” Zayn says, nodding frantically, helping Liam lift up a little with one hand and slicking and lining himself up with the other and Liam can’t help the groan he lets out at the feel of the head of Zayn’s cock pressing against him, right against his hole.

“Please, please, yes, yes, yes, please, please,” he mumbles incoherently, arms wrapped around Zayn’s neck.

“Oh _God_ ,” Zayn groans as he pushes inside, Liam pushing himself down to meet him so he slides in all in one slick movement until Zayn’s fully sheathed inside him, and Liam lets out a relaxed little sigh. Finally feeling the fire ebb some again, some of the clarity coming back to him as he revels in the feeling of Zayn filling him up like this.

It’s more concentrated now, the heat. He’s still warm but it’s less all over, more focused to one point, to inside where he and Zayn are connected now. That’s still where it burns the hottest as Zayn pulls out, but as he pushes back in it goes away a little again. And over and over and over. Every draw out has it creeping back in just a little but every push back inside has it fading partly away again. Replaced by the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt so that after the first few thrusts he just sinks down and keeps Zayn deep, grinding down onto him and shivering from how good it feels.

It’s almost too much. He’s not even aware of all the sounds he’s making, half-gone on the indescribable feeling of it all, but he doesn’t want to stop. He feels stretched tight and filled up in the best way, can’t help the way his eyes keep rolling back at the intense pleasure that races through him with every roll of his hips. He’s coming before he’s even fully aware of what’s happening, pleasure spiking that much more as the pressure in the heavy weight of his dick lets up just a little, spurt after spurt of come dribbling down between them like even his dick’s too weak to shoot properly anymore. And it’s not really relief. Not much anyway. Maybe a little, but it’s minimal.

Zayn’s moans though, thrusts going a little more erratic, a little rougher and faster inside Liam, and _that_ is. But somehow it’s still not enough. He wants _more_.

“Zayn…Zayn, please…fingers…please,” he begs desperately, needing to feel even more stretched full than he already is, desperate for it.

But Zayn misunderstands him. Brings fingers to his lips instead and Liam shakes his head, a little frantic because once again now that it’s in his head he needs it _now_.

“Please… _inside_ … _please_.”

Zayn stares at him, incredulous, eyes wide. But a moment later he snakes his other hand down, the one with his fingers still slick, and traces along Liam’s rim where Liam’s already stretched so tight around him. Liam bucks down sharply at the feeling, another shock of pleasure running through him at the mere touch.

“Nnnn…yes, _yes_ ,” he whines. And fuck, he can’t wait to feel them inside stretching him open even more. He wants it _so_ bad. “ _Please_ …please, please, please.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Zayn breathes as he slips the tip of the first finger in and Liam already can’t wait for the second and third.

Is already chanting, “More, more, more, please, more,” before Zayn’s even got the first all the way inside.

By the time he’s got the second one in Liam’s grinding down onto him with abandon and by the third Liam’s coming again, hot and thick between them in weak dribbles just like before, the two of them covered in his come now but he doesn’t care. The pressure in his full dick eases a little more and it feels good but it’s nothing compared to the way Zayn’s fucking up into him now, rough and hard and deep with both his dick and his fingers and it feels _so_ good. _So_ amazing.

Leaves him feeling stretched open and used, body thrumming with double the pleasure as before and barely even a hint of fire because with every drag of Zayn’s fingers out he’s thrusting his cock up at the same time. And vice versa so that whether it’s his fingers or his cock there’s always something pushing inside—even while the other is pulling out—and the fire never really has a chance to creep back in.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, oh _fuck_ ,” Zayn grits out, slamming up inside Liam _hard_ three, four, five times, skin slapping against skin, and then he’s coming, dick jumping inside Liam as he fills him up hot and wet and _deep_ and Liam feels a choked-off sound bubble up from his chest as he seizes up. Comes for a fourth time that night, heavy between them, ropes of come spilling over his slit and down his now oversensitive cock that feels like someone’s holding twelve vibrators to it forcing him to come over and over, hole clenching in hard spasms around Zayn. Every slightest twinge of movement inside him or drip of come down his shaft sending another harsh spike of pleasure shooting through him. Eyes rolling back in his head, every muscle in his body feeling as if it’s locked up rigid even while he shivers uncontrollably. And that’s all he’s aware of before all the pleasure and overwhelming sensations get to be too much and he blacks out.

When he comes to again he has no idea how much time has passed between the point he blacked out and now. All he knows is that he’s clean and dry and the fire has finally, _finally_ completely gone. He feels mostly back to his normal temperature now. Still a little warm, but the fever’s already clearly on its way out. Zayn’s dressed him in pajama pants and tucked him under the covers but is nowhere to be seen though Liam’s pretty sure he can hear the shower running in the distance. And Liam wonders idly if Zayn managed to carry him to and from the tub and wash him off without him waking up or just wiped him down very thoroughly with a flannel. Not that it matters because he feels _amazing_. Sated and warm and dry, tucked up in soft sheets and blankets, and sore in all the right places. He might still be coming down from the high of whatever was affecting him because he still feels a bit floaty and overly happy, but right now he’s too tired to care.

The shower’s stopped running now and only a few moments pass before Zayn’s walking in, hair damp and floppy, sitting gingerly down on the bed like he’s afraid of disturbing Liam until he sees he’s awake. Though not for much longer with the way exhaustion is steadily creeping in with each passing moment, weighing down on him like a thick cloud slowly settling over him.

“Hey…you okay?” Zayn says gently, carding nimble fingers through Liam’s hair.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, nodding, which is about all he can manage now as he fights to keep his eyes open.

“The pain gone?”

“Mm-hmm.” And if it sounds a little dopey Zayn doesn’t say anything.

“Alright, well, you go ahead and get some sleep, yeah?”

Liam hums again, shutting his eyes even as the words are still leaving Zayn’s mouth. Falls right into the deepest sleep he’s had in years, possibly ever, almost the second his eyes fall closed.

When he wakes it’s blissful. At first. One brief, peaceful moment where none of the guilt or bad feelings have hit him yet. And then it all comes rushing back in full force, hitting him like a ton of bricks—the memories of what he made Zayn _do_ , the way he acted, the things he said, the things he _asked_ for, coerced Zayn into _doing_ to him.

God, he’s _awful_. He’s an _awful, awful_ person.

Zayn hadn’t even wanted to—to—and Liam. Liam had _forced_ him into it, practically thrown himself on Zayn and _made_ him do it. All of it. And _oh God_ , Zayn must hate him. He may have been nice about it last night because Liam was still half out of it but in the harsh light of day there’s no faking what he must feel. Zayn couldn’t even stand to stay in the same room as him, as is evidenced by the cold empty space in the bed beside him even though it’s _Zayn’s_ room, and Liam doesn’t blame him.

 _God_ , why he hadn’t he tried harder to stop himself? Barricaded himself in the bathroom, or literally any other room in the house, or even at least kept his clothes on for Christ’s sakes. _Something_. There were a million other things he could’ve done and instead he’d just given in, forced himself on Zayn like some sort of animal in heat and now he won’t ever be able to look at Zayn again without feeling the full weight of all of his guilt. Not that Zayn would probably even want to talk to him again after this.

Liam gets up, ignoring the stiffness and soreness in his limbs and…other places as he roots around the floor for his clothes where he’s sure he shed them last night only to realize they’ve been washed and neatly folded, left on the dresser for him.

Liam slips them on feeling even more guilty at Zayn’s compulsive hospitality in the face of all this. Heads back over to the bed for his shoes and is just starting to agonize over whether or not he should bother to say goodbye and risk adding insult to injury, or just take his leave and slip out quietly, deal with the fallout later, when Zayn appears in the doorway. He’s got a tray full of breakfast food in his arms but his eyes go wide and panicked when he sees Liam awake and fully dressed.

“Zayn, I’m _so_ sorry,” Liam says at the same time that Zayn says, “Liam, I’m _so_ sorry,”

And then again both of them at the same time, “Wait, what are _you_ sorry for?”

Zayn shakes his head, stepping inside to set the tray down on the nightstand as he gestures to Liam. “Sorry, um, you first.”

“Just…I’m really sorry for…taking advantage of you like that,” Liam says, voice still a bit hoarse from last night, which only makes him feel even more sheepish and embarrassed. “I should have tried harder to stop myself or, I don’t know, _something_ , but anyway I’m…I’m _really_ sorry and I just hope you can forgive me.”

Liam can’t bear to look him in the eyes even after he’s through saying what he needs to say but Zayn’s next words have him whipping his head up in shock anyway.

“Funny…I was gonna say almost the exact same thing,” Zayn says with a wry half-smile that has none of the usual humor or joy in it. “Not sure what you have to be sorry about seeing as I was the clear-headed one in the situation who should have had the wherewithal to put a stop to it. I mean, it’s not your fault that girl drugged you.”

“It is my fault for forcing myself on you though,” Liam counters. “I could have…just let it run its course or even asked you to call me a cab back to my hotel or something. But instead I stayed and said all those…those _things_ to you and forced you to do things you didn’t even want to do just to make myself feel better and I feel _awful_. I’m so sorry I made you do all those things,” he says miserably, sinks to the edge of the bed heavily feeling like the guilt is weighing him down still even now that he’s apologized.

“Hey, no,” Zayn says, sitting down carefully beside him, “you didn’t _force_ me to do anything. I mean, I may have been running with the excuse that I was just doing it to help you at the time, but…that doesn’t mean I didn’t also want it. I just…shouldn’t have let myself get caught up. I mean, you weren’t even in your right mind but you were right there in front of me begging and I just…started thinking with the wrong head I guess, let myself take advantage of you at your most vulnerable when I shouldn’t have. Anyway we can keep apologizing to each other all day but the bottom line is that I think…I think maybe we both…said and did some things last night that we regret or that we wish we hadn’t, but it’s over now so all we can do is move on.”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees but it feels a bit like a lie. Not because he doesn’t have regrets about how things happened, but…he maybe doesn’t regret _all_ of it and he maybe would have liked for something like it to happen again. And it’s not like he’d been holding out hope or anything, after all he’d been under the impression that Zayn hated him and wouldn’t even want to see his face just a little while ago. But something about the way he’d started off just now after Liam’s second apology had sparked some small hope in him that maybe it could be a possibility, them doing something like that again. He’d been stupid to even consider it though, however short-lived it had been.

Last night was a fluke. That’s all it was. Just getting the last bit of lingering unresolved sexual tension from their days in the band together out of their systems. It’s like Zayn said, now that it’s done they can move past it.

“D’you, um, do you want some breakfast?” Zayn asks tentatively, gesturing toward the tray of food still sitting on the nightstand.

Liam nods jerkily, still feeling a bit sheepish despite everything. But when Zayn scoots back against the pillows and sets the tray in the middle of the bed, gesturing for Liam to join him and take the empty spot on the other side, Liam follows suit. Scoots into the empty space and picks up a danish from one of the plates, going to take a bite before he rears back, nose crinkling up at the smell.

Maple.

Or some other sort of similar syrupy scent. Sickly sweet.

It reminds him too much of the girl’s perfume that had been the catalyst for all this yesterday and he drops it lightning fast back down to the plate in disgust.

Zayn crinkles a brow at him, picks up the danish himself and inspects it closely, sniffs at it, and then peers back at Liam, clearly trying puzzle over in his head why Liam would react so strongly to a breakfast pastry before it finally seems to click.

“It’s the smell, isn’t it?” he says. “Sweet and syrupy like you said that girl’s perfume was.”

Liam nods, cheeks going a bit pink, though from embarrassment or anxiousness over his sudden discomfort at the subject being brought up again he’s not entirely sure. It might be a bit of both.

Zayn shakes his head. “Christ, whatever that girl did to you was really fucked up.”

“If she even meant to do it,” Liam counters, voice still a little small, but feeling like it’s only fair to come to her defense when they don’t know the whole story. “We don’t know that it was on purpose…I mean, they did say they didn’t even think they’d ever run into us.”

“They also said they knew we were both in town and just so happened to be walking around at the same time we were. And it’s not like you’ve ever reacted to someone’s perfume like that _before_.” Zayn raises a brow at him as if to say _have you_?

“Yeah, but only one of them had it on. If they were really out to secretly drug us or whatever wouldn’t it have made more sense for _both_ of them to wear it? Like maximum exposure or whatever? And isn’t it kind of weird that it only affected me and not you? I mean, you were close enough to her to at least smell it even if you didn’t get close enough for it to really affect you but you didn’t smell anything, right? Maybe she didn’t even know what she had on. Maybe to her and everyone else it smells normal and I just happen to be allergic to some chemical or ingredient or whatever it was that might have been in it.”

“Liam, whatever the hell that was it was way more than just an allergic reaction. That was like some super freaky drugged out pheromone aphrodisiac type shit. And she also specifically asked to hug _you_. That’s not suspicious at all to you?”

“Well, so did the other girl with _you_ , and you were fine,” Liam argues and even to his own his own ears he sounds a bit like he’s whining, tone sulky, but he continues on anyway. “That doesn’t prove that she did it on purpose, just that it had something in it that caused a weird reaction that for all we know she had no clue about. Maybe she hugged some other people before or after us and it affected them too and you just happened to be immune. There are a million other explanations besides ‘she drugged me so I’d want to have sex with you.’”

“Yeah, like she drugged you so you’d want to have sex with _her_ , only it didn’t exactly work out how she planned cause she didn’t account for years of unresolved sexual tension or your additional attraction to guys. But Christ, Liam, is that really so hard to believe? Do you not remember how mental some of these fangirls can get? The girl in the bin or the infamous ‘snake habitat’ not ringing any bells? Or the one who stole your pants?”

“Yeah, but you know they’re not _all_ like that and _they_ definitely didn’t seem like that type yesterday. Plus, aren’t you the one that used to say the fans aren’t crazy, they’re just passionate?”

“Those were extenuating circumstances and you know it.” Zayn doesn’t mention names but they both know who he’s talking about without him having to voice it.

“Still,” Liam argues, pushing the point anyway because despite all Zayn’s pessimism they still don’t know anything for sure and probably never will.

Zayn sighs, shakes his head and settles back into the pillows. “Look, this is getting us nowhere. Let’s just agree to disagree, yeah? Maybe it was an accident, maybe it was on purpose—it was probably on purpose—but regardless, it’s over now so let’s just put it behind us.”

And it’s funny, it’s almost the same thing he said just a little while ago but Liam’s not quite as willing to agree this time even if he is still a bit anxious about it. Feeling a bit more argumentative now, despite his apprehension. He’s quiet for a while, chewing on his lip for a bit, still a little swollen from last night, before he finally speaks up again, voice a little timid at his uncertainty over how Zayn might respond. “Do we…do we have to put it _all_ behind us?”

Zayn furrows his brows at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Liam starts, but doesn’t finish, not sure exactly what to say next. _Maybe we could do it again sometime_ feels too crude. Even if what happened was secretly everything he’s ever wanted that he’s always just been too afraid to voice, much less try. Besides, he’s being stupid for even broaching it again anyway. Zayn made it pretty clear it was just a one-time thing that he’s not interested in repeating. Liam shakes his head dismissively, says softly, “Never mind.”

Except now it’s Zayn’s turn to go quiet.

“Would…” Zayn starts after a brief moment contemplative silence and then pauses, taking a deep breath before he starts up again, “would you maybe, um…maybe _not_ want to…put it behind us? Like…like maybe not at all…”

“Y-yes. No. I’m not…sure how to answer that?” Liam says, a little confused at the way the question was posed. “I…I _don’t_ want to put it behind us, if that makes sense. Um. I—”

“Want to…maybe…do it again?” Zayn finishes.

“Yeah,” Liam says lamely.

“Me too,” Zayn concedes, voice soft now.

Liam looks up at him, eyes wide and unsure, but, for the first time since this conversation started, feeling a little hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Zayn smiles and that’s soft too. Bites into half a powdered donut and Liam finds himself smiling softly right along with him as he bites into a (very-not-maple) strawberry scone.

 

 

**Epilogue-ish**

They’ve taken it slow for about two weeks with this new thing they’ve got going, but now they’re both kind of jonesing. Neither of them have been able to stop thinking about that night since it happened. And he can’t speak for Zayn but Liam’s wanked to the memory of it at least about five times already. Even found the courage to admit to Zayn that it wasn’t just his drugged-out mind coming up with that stuff. That he maybe kind of wanted all those things _outside_ of that weird perfume-addled state too but had just been too afraid to admit it even to himself before it was forced out of him and brought to the forefront where he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

So now here they are, having dinner at Zayn’s house, to be followed by their official, fully-consensual, drug-free first time together and Liam’s kind of freaking out but also beyond excited.

Because this time he really does get Zayn and all the things he’s ever wanted with none of the fogginess or confusion or, worst of all, guilt and embarrassment of before.

It’s gonna be _incredible_ and he can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & Kudos = LOVE so leave 'em if you feel up to it and hope you enjoyed! :)


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